Posted in Family- Memories, Love, Poetry

Memory of my Mother.

When we met or talked or touched
I always  I felt the Blue
For there are many colours. .  I felt them all in you.

rainbow

 I have touched the yellow, I have held the green
And I have felt the pain of white
When your colours were not   seen

When once I knew your rainbow, I fondly  grasped the red
I fully owned  your colours
and all my pains were dead .

 

Author:

I have always had a wonderful memory. when I say “wonderful memory” what I really mean is that I rarely if ever recall horrible things like the weather. I never recall cold or frosty mornings, or even 24 hours of anything dull or boring that might have happened before or after a memorable event, the happy result being all my life's memories are wonderful. Peculiar as it may sound to anyone who might be reading this, I have absolutely marvelous memories that range from breaking one or more of my bones to hanging upside down from an upper branch of an Oak tree with my ankle wedged between two branches. I have heard stories about people that have totally removed from their recollection painful events that had previously occurred in their life. I can believe this because at this precise moment I can recall nothing that was not absolutely wonderful. If by chance I have ever blocked out anything painful I would consider this possibility to be just another wonderful thing. I intend to Blog about my friends and memories on these pages.

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